Stranded
by Grand Delusions
Summary: [MerDer] A lot can change in six months. Now on separate sides of the country, Meredith struggles with guilt and loneliness as Derek struggles to find his way back to her.
1. Crashing

Title: Stranded  
Summary: A lot can change in six months. Now on separate sides of the country, Meredith struggles with guilt and loneliness' as Derek struggles to find his way back to her. Mer/Der.  
Disclaimer: They're not mine, if only, if only…  
Author's Note: "Shades of Grey" is still in progress, but since it's guided by the series, and since I was coming very close to taking liberties with the characters and doing something that would not be sticking with the TV plot, I can't update it until we get some new episodes. I really have no idea if I will take liberties this summer or if I'll shelf it until the fall. Anyway, that's why there is this new one before that old one is finished. Please read and review! Reviews are, as always, loved and cherished, as are those who wrote them. :D

_Stranded  
"__It's coming over you  
Like it's coming over me  
Crashing like a tidal wave  
That drags me out to sea"  
-Plumb_

-o-

**Stranded**

-o-

**Meredith**:

-o-

"You okay, Mer?" the voice broke Meredith's concentration. She turned to see George inching towards her, his face etched in concern as the leaves crackled beneath his feet.

"Yeah," she sighed, returning her hallow eyes back to the sight before her.

Izzie watched as Callie, slightly tugging on George's arm, leading him away. He cast a worried look at Meredith as the woman dragged him off, silently pleading for Izzie to do something. Callie threw a disdainful look at Izzie, shaking her head as she and George walked to their car.

Slumping her shoulders with a sigh, she picked up her purse, and turned back to Meredith. Her back was facing Izzie, and she trembled. Izzie couldn't tell if it was from the cool breeze or the emotional weight she was feeling. She didn't know, but she didn't feel as though she knew much of anything these days.

"Do you want me to stay?" she asked tentatively, receiving a shrug in response. She looked over at Christina, needing some sort of instruction, but Christina's confused reaction proved she was just as unfamiliar with this territory. Izzie stood awkwardly, absently fiddling with the buttons on her coat. After an eternity she swung her purse over the shoulder. "I'll see you at home," Izzie whispered, walking away, leaving Meredith and Christina alone on the empty hill in the cemetery.

Thunder echoed in the distance, and Christina glared up at the offending sky. Small drops of rain began to fall, pattering against the ancient stones littering the grounds. Opening the umbrella she hadn't planned on bringing until Burke reminded her that they were, of course, living in Seattle, Christina walked over to Meredith and held it over her head. The two of them stood uncomfortably under the small shelter.

"You gonna be okay?" Christina asked. That's what you're supposed to ask, isn't it?

"Yeah," she mumbled, given the expected response. Her voice was uneven, and her eyes were etched in red, showing just now not okay she was.

"Are you lying to me?" Christina pressed.

"No," Meredith lied.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

The rain grew to a steady downpour, while Christina and Meredith stood huddled under the small black umbrella.

"I just thought she had more time, you know? I was never there. I always—I always thought there'd be more time. And then I was never there, I abandoned her just… just like she abandoned me. I mean, she was a bad mom, but I was a bad daughter. This is the longest time I've been with her in ages. I just thought I could be there later…" Meredith rambled, tears forming in her eyes.

Christina pursed her lips, wondering how she was supposed to be a best friend in this situation. "You couldn't have known. And it's not your fault."

"I guess," Meredith sniffed. "But now I'm completely alone."

"You still have your father," Christina reminded her.

Meredith snorted in response, staring at the grave before her.

Christina, shocked, turned to look at her best friend. "You didn't tell him?" she asked.

"Why bother?" Meredith retorted. "I haven't spoken to him in six months. Not since…" she trailed off. "And it's not like he's really my father anyway."

Christina wrapped a fumbling arm around Meredith, hugging her slightly, clumsily trying to comfort her. "Common," she told her, "let's go."

But, Meredith resisted, "You can go. I'm going to stay for awhile."

Christina stared in disbelief, feeling the same helpless confusion Izzie's face mirrored minutes prior. Her attempts to have Meredith take hold of the umbrella failed as her friend's arms remained dead at her side. Eventually giving up, Christina shook her head, turning to go.

As Christina left, Meredith stood unmoving over her mother's grave. Rain soaked through the thin material of her black dress, her shoes sinking into the growing puddle of mud. Lifting her head towards the grey clouds, the tears mixed with rain and slid down her face as she choked back sobs. She cried for her mother, for her father, for _him_, for herself, for everything. The sobs rang out, but were quelled by the storm overhead. Wrapping her arms around herself, she lost all sense of time as the rain continued to fall on the lone figure cloaked in black.

-o-

**Derek**:

-o-

Derek sighed as he rifled through the morning papers scattered across the kitchen table. _"New York Post," "New York Times," "New York Daily News…" _ Absentmindedly grabbing one, he slid into his chair, taking a sip from his coffee mug that boldly proclaimed _"World's Best Husband," _a peasant from his wife that he wasn't sure was intended to be genuine or ironic. He skimmed the headlines with glazed over eyes, reading, but not remembering. It wasn't a habit for the purpose of gleaning information, it was simply a routine.

Outside the sounds of the morning commute filtered up to the window of their Manhattan home. What was once a familiar and comforting noise now sounding stark and foreign. He knew it would be hard to be back, he hadn't planned on it being unbearable…

"_I'm from New York—genetically engineered to hate everywhere, except Manhattan."_

Taking another drink of coffee, his concentration stopped when he saw one headline: _"FBI Cracks Down on Illegal Shipping to Seattle Ports."_

How long had he been back here? Counting backwards on his fingers, he paused. Had it really been four months? It felt so much longer.

Staring at the grainy image of an impounded barge, he allowed his thoughts to drift back to a different time, on a different ocean when his world consisted of tequila and ferryboats. He hadn't even realized he was smiling. It was the first time he'd smiled when he wasn't at the hospital in the past four months.

"Something funny, babe?" Addison questioned as she adjusted her earring.

"Hm?" he was startled out of his trance. "Oh, I, uh—nothing really." He fumbled around trying to cast the paper aside.

But she was by his side inspecting the paper before he could rid himself of the offending article.

"Oh," was all she said. But he knew she had seen it, and he knew she knew the flurry of images 'Seattle' brought to his mind. Her hard voice seemed to echo in the room, making him all the more aware of his guilt.

"We have a meeting with Dr. Parker tomorrow," she reminded him as she walked over to the fridge. "I checked the schedule, so I know you have the day off."

"Glad to see you're still checking up on me," he tersely responded.

"I'm just telling you in case you try to tell me you can't make it because you have a surgery… again," she answered as she drew the box of orange juice out, slamming the refrigerator door for emphasis.

Derek prayed she would just drop it, as he stole another sip of coffee, but God seemed to be ignoring him recently, or for at least the past five months, since Addison had insisted that they needed to come back to New York…

"Derek, I thought we moved back here so we would work on our marriage."

"Moving back here _was_ me working on our marriage!" he shot back.

She drew out a long angry breath, glaring at him, "You're still... you're still-" she stammered.

"I'm still what?" he challenged her, daring her to admit it, wanting her to finally realize—say it out loud so the hovering thought could be birthed with words and be a living concept, an irreconcilable problem no amount of marriage counseling and therapy could resolve, but it would never exist if it was never uttered aloud.. Then they could just be done.

"Nothing," she sighed as she reached for a cup and shook the box of juice before pouring herself a glass. In the corner of her mind she imagined herself mixing her drink with vodka in honor of the man who had screwed up her happiness so completely, but was still the only one who could give it back to her, if only he'd try.

Derek frowned as he picked up the paper again, hoping the headlines would provide some means of escape; frustrated he was sitting in a kitchen in New York City, and wanting to be sitting at the counter of a trailer he sold long ago across from a sarcastic blonde who existed in another life that he could only hope to reclaim.


	2. Waiting

A/N: So I had all almost all of chapter two written, until I decided to shuffle events and make that half of three and half of four. I hope you will all be pleased that this is happening in chapter two, instead of chapter three like I had originally planned. So there will be more movement now.  
All the sections about CME's… well, Winkipedia says they exist, however, I'm taking what I know about other licensing for different professions—mainly mine, and applying them to a medical setting. If they're completely incorrect… just smile and go with it.  
As you could probably already tell, I'm taking liberties with the timeline since Shonda Rhimes has declared the entire show so far has happened in six months, which is crap, but whatever.

As always, please read and review.

-o-

_Stranded_  
"_You know it only breaks my heart  
To see you standing in the dark  
Waiting there for me to come back"  
-Plumb_

-o-

**Stranded**

-o-

**Meredith**:

-o-

Meredith took a sip from her latte as she and Christina entered the locker room. Out of the corner of her eye she saw George toss a magazine to Izzie, and she frantically shoved it into her locker. She knew what it was just from their actions.

"It's okay guys," Meredith explained. "I've already seen it."

"George!" Izzie turned to him, hitting his arm.

"What?" he questioned. "I didn't! I mean, I wasn't the one to leave it out."

"What are you two whining about?" Christina grumbled as she shoved past them, throwing open the door to her locker, and pulling out her scrubs.

"This," Meredith sighed, reaching from behind Izzie to pull out the offending object. She held it up at to Christina's eyes.

Christina finished pulling her hair back before she studied the cover. "Okay, what am I looking at?" she asked, her face blank and confused.

Meredith rolled her eyes as she announced "This!" and pointed to the headline: _"The Future of Neurosurgery,"_ and then rapidly flipped to the page listed, jamming her finger furiously to one of the names listed _'Derek Shepherd.'_

"Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh,'" Meredith answered. "I mean, how the hell am I suppose to get over him if he keeps popping into my life?" she asked, pulling her scrubs over her head and raking a hand through her blonde hair.

"Well it's not like he's not going to publish something because you might read it," Christina rationalized. "Publish or perish, get with the program."

"That's crap, and you know it. And for the record, you're a horrible best friend," Meredith retorted, turning her attention to her bag by her locker as Christina laughed.

"Alright everyone, time to fill out what CME's you'll be attending," Bailey announced as she strode into the crowded locker room. Meredith looked apprehensively at Christina as she took the large paper packet her resident thrust at her.

Christina shrugged slightly as she flipped through the pages, partially listening to the speech Bailey was giving to the other interns.

"Now this is your final opportunity to earn all your necessary Continuing Medical Education Units that our surgical program requires before Review. That means you fill out these forms make sure you've documented all your credits before your end of year evaluation," she huffed as she marched around the lockers, staring pointedly at her interns each time she passed them. "Failure to do so will not only piss me off, but can and _will_ result in probation, suspension, or expulsion from this program, so don't screw this up."

"God, this sucks," Alex fumed once Bailey had left the room.

"Speak for yourself, Evil Spawn," Christina retorted, straddling the bench as she began filling out the forms.

"Yeah, the kiss-ass would love this, wouldn't she?" Alex seethed, examining the list of classes. Christina rolled her eyes in response, throwing in a comment about Stanford and Alex's history taking exams as Alex stormed out of the room.

Meredith leaned against the wall of lockers, flipping through the offered courses. "What are you taking?" she asked Christina as other interns began to file into the hallway.

Christina paused from her frantic scribbling to flip through the packet. "Umm… Advances in Vascular Surgery and the one on… I don't know," she paused. "I only need two credits—think they'd let me take four?"

"Are you serious?" George gaped at her on his way out.

"Oh shut up, Bambi."

Meredith flipped the packet shut. "Should I take the Neurosurgery class?" she asked Christina.

"Why not?" Christina stared at Meredith, waiting for her to give a reason.

"You know…" she supplied.

"Oh please," Christina groaned. "It's not like he can show up here twice. Take the class, stop worrying about it," she said, shoving the packet into her locker, and slamming the small metal door. Meredith stuffed the information into her bag, throwing it into her locker as she trailed after Christina as they rushed off with the rest of the interns.

"Christina…" Meredith pleaded.

"Meredith, shut up," Christina snapped.

"Hey!" Meredith shot back defensively.

"Look, if you want to take the class, take it. It's not like he's going to teach it. McSatan wouldn't ever let him come within a hundred miles of here. Just take the class," Christina said. "Look," she softened, "if you take it, I'll take it too. Okay?" She raised her eyebrows in an attempt to look more compassionate.

Meredith giggled at the effort; Christina only looked awkward each second she attempted showing emotions. "Okay, deal."

-o-

**Derek**:

-o-

Derek punched in the familiar sequence of numbers into his cell phone. Would 7:00 a.m. be too early to call? He waited anxiously during the first two rings until he heard a cheery female voice answer:

"Chief of Surgery's Office."

Derek drummed his fingers on the laminate surface of the diner table, smiling at the waitress as she set the steaming cup of coffee down.

"Derek!" he heard Richard's friendly voice through the earpiece. "I haven't heard from you in months. How's Manhattan?"

"It's ah… it's been busy," Derek grasped for a phrase that would accurately describe his silent hell. "I was actually afraid you wouldn't answer, it's early for you to be there," he confessed.

"Patricia and I have been organizing this next seminar," Richard said. "Rodgers bailed last minute on me, so I've been here bright and early for the past week trying to coordinate everything."

Derek chuckled, glad to speak so easily with someone he hadn't spoken with in almost five months.

"I saw that article with you in _JAMA_," Richard mentioned, changing the topic. "I didn't know you were delving more into research."

Derek seized on the opening, "Yeah, actually that's why I was calling, Richard. Have you had any… interesting cases recently?"

"Nothing that our neuro staff can't handle," he replied.

"So have you found a new Head yet?" Derek circled around the real question he was after.

"We're still interviewing qualified candidates. I called in a favor from an old friend to step in for the interim," Richard explained. "Excuse me a second, Shep."

Derek heard the static noise as Richard covered the mouthpiece. A few garbled noises flew across the wires, and Derek thought he heard Richard curse. As he waited, he raised the chipped mug to his lips, taking a long sip of cheaply brewed diner coffee. He wondered for a minute if Addison would be angry when she didn't find him in his usual stop at the kitchen table, but reminded himself that cheap greasy, diners were more his thing than hers—one of the many things they differed on. His thoughts again went back to the eternal question: Why did he come back? But they were interrupted by the phone--

"You still there?" Richard's voice sounded through the phone.

"Yeah, Richard," he answered immediately. "So, ah," he stammered, "Head of Neuro's still open?"

Derek listened intently for his mentor's reply. The silence seemed to stretch on into infinity while Derek waited for a response. After that, there could be no doubt in Richard's mind just why he was calling.

"What's the real reason you called, Shep?" Richard finally asked.

"I just wanted to see how things were going," Derek answered weakly, aware of just how pathetic the justification was. He had never been good at lying, particularly with his mentor.

"This isn't about Meredith, is it?" he sounded skeptical.

"Y-No! No," Derek insisted. "I just… I just need to get out of New York for awhile. It's the same city, but… I'm not the same person I was."

"Is everything with Addison okay?"

Derek always knew that between the two of his former students, Addison had always been the favored, but there was little use backing down. "No," he confessed, "but that hardly stopped you the last time I asked you for a job."

Richard seemed to be considering this, but Derek couldn't be sure. Finally he spoke: "I don't have any cases currently that would be worth you coming all the way out here."

"Oh," Derek sighed, his shoulders slumping.

"But," Richard's voice continued, "Patricia just came in her to tell me that one of our speakers had a conflict come up."

"And?" Derek held his breath.

"And I need someone certified to hold the neurology seminar," he admitted reluctantly.

Derek suddenly sprang to life, motioning for the waitress to bring the check. "When is it?" he asked, gathering up all the files he had spread out on the table to give the pretense of work. Listening to Richard's instructions, he pounded the keys of his Blackberry, capturing the dates, "The seventh? Okay, I'll be there," he beamed.

Almost a month away. There were loose ends to be tied up in Manhattan. He could make it until then.

He was going back home.


	3. Come Back

A/N: I know: quick update. I'm just as surprised as you. This chapter is mainly transition—getting Derek to Seattle. I hope you enjoy my attempt at a cliffhanger. Thanks for reading, and please review.  
(Oh God, Season Finale in just a few hours!)

-o-

_Stranded_  
"_I know you're waiting there for me  
To come back  
I'm too afraid to show"  
-Plumb_

-o-

**Stranded**

-o-

**Derek**:

-o-

Derek finished folding up the last shirt and set it on top of the pile of folded slacks and shirts. His red shirt. His good-looking red shirt. He wondered if Addison realized what it meant that he was taking it with him…

Derek felt her walk up behind him, immediately stiffening as she approached. Her bare feet padded across the oak floor, echoing in the silence.

"You left this in the bathroom," she whispered sadly, setting the razor on the table next to his bag.

Derek lowered his eyes to the suitcase, unable to turn around and look at the sadness in her eyes. "Yeah, thanks," he stuffed the object into the small black bag.

Addison continued to stand behind him, watching as he finished placing the folded stack of clothes into the suitcase. Turning to face her, he saw her frantically wiping away tears before pulling her bathrobe tightly around her and folding her arms across her chest. Her red hair hung limply. She looked broken, defenseless.

"And you have everything you need?" she tried to force a smile, but her lip began to quiver before she crumpled into tears.

"Addison…" Derek murmured, his voice breaking.

"Don't, Derek," she backed away from him.

He slumped onto the couch, unsure of what to say. Nothing he could do would comfort her, or make the morning any easier. "I'm so sorry, Addison," he whispered.

She sank into the plush armchair, as far away from him as she could be. "I know you are," she admitted. "It's just… Why Derek?"

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair before looking at her, not wanting to repeat the same conversation they'd had for the past three weeks. "You know why."

"Meredith," she sniffed. If only it were only about Meredith.

"Addison, it's not just Meredith. It's Seattle. It's me. It's who I became after…" he trailed off.

"After Mark," she supplied.

"No," he assured her. "Before then… after we stopped being husband and wife and became strangers, roommates."

"Roommates," she sniffed. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry I wasn't a better wife."

"Don't be," he said, scooting across the couch, closer to her armchair. "You were great. We're just—"

"Not the same people anymore," she finished. "I get it. I do, it's just… I thought we were making so much progress. After we came back here… weren't you happy?"

He thought about lying, just to make it easier, but ultimately opted to rip off the bandaide, no anastesia. "I haven't been happy in a long time, Addie."

She sniffed again, nodding her head. She knew this, she had accepted it. But it still hurt to hear it. "What will you do when you get there?" she finally asked.

"First I'll need to find a job," he smirked.

She almost laughed at this. "And a new trailer."

Derek laughed, thinking how fortunate he was that after selling the old trailer the rookie realtor had priced the land too high to find a buyer, even after it sitting on the market for five months. "At least somewhere to stay where I won't have to sleep on the couch," he grinned, trying to make her smile—he owed her at least that much today. But, she remained silent.

He studied Addison. Her face screwed in concentration—it was obvious there was something on her mind.

"Addie, what is it?" he asked gently.

"Do you think she'll take you back? Are you going to ask her to?"

"Addison, don't do this," Derek grumbled.

"Well, what am I suppose to do, Derek?" she snapped back at him. "I mean, you're flying across the country back to Seattle, back to Meredith. Did you think I'd just smile and wish you well?"

Derek rose from the couch, walking over to the suitcase, and slamming the flap shut. "I'd rather not fight with you on my last day in New York."

"Do you think you would've gone if Richard hadn't asked you to run a lecture?" she asked from her seat.

Derek zipped the case shut, and moved it to the door by the pile of luggage. "Maybe not now," he told her honestly, "but eventually, yeah, I would've gone."

Addison nodded, finally acknowledging the truth to his words, and the emotion behind it. She tucked a stray piece of flaming red hair behind her ear. "That's what I thought too. I just thought… well, never mind."

She stood up and retied the bathrobe around her, her green pajama pants peaking out from under the long terrycloth robe. Walking over to him, Addison rested her hand on his chest, trying desperately to keep her composure. "So, have a good flight. Call me when you get there so I know you got there safely. Let me know when you want your stuff shipped over, and…" her voice began to waiver, "I'll fax you to copies of the papers once… once the divorce is finalized."

"Thank you," he said with a sad smile. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her into a hug.

"Well, I guess this really is goodbye," she said.

"Yeah," he whispered.

"At least I get a better goodbye this time," she made a small attempt at humor. He laughed, not from the joke itself, but to keep from crying. His family was ending. It really was the end.

"Goodbye Derek," Addison whispered as she pulled away, picking up his carry-on and handing it to him.

"Goodbye Addison."

-o-

Derek held the phone that felt like a weight in his hands. The thought circling through his mind all morning looked more appealing. Throwing the carry-on over his shoulder, he checked the gate number against the ticket stub while he waded through the throngs of people.

Spying a small airport restaurant, he ducked into the room, dropping the bag in the adjacent chair, and pulling out his cell phone.

He bit his lip. Should he call? Did he dare? Determined, he scrolled through the phonebook to the number, waiting for her to answer.

-o-

**Meredith**:

-o-

Meredith stood in the kitchen clad in only a bra and jeans, digging through the laundry basket of clothes. "Where is it?" she asked.

"Meredith, why would your phone be in the laundry basket?" George asked between bites of toast.

Izzie turned around to witness the chaos. "God, Meredith, put some clothes on. Have you no shame?" Izzie asked, attacking the eggs in the frying pan.

George snorted from his seat at the table, laughing that Izzie of all people, would lecture someone on modesty. Hearing a slight buzzing, his attention snapped to Meredith's phone scooting across the table. He turned to Meredith—

"Shit! It's not here!" she cursed, grabbing a shirt from the basket and running towards the stairs, oblivious that her phone was right on the table.

"Meredith, your ph-," George mentioned, despite her being out of earshot. Picking up the phone, his eyes grew wide when he read the name lit up on the screen. "Izzie!" he hissed, grabbing the phone and tripping across the kitchen towards her.

"What?"

"Look!" he ordered, showing her the phone, still buzzing and displaying a board "DEREK" across the screen..

Izzie's brow furrowed and she pursed her lips tightly together.

"What should we do?" George asked her.

Izzie remained silent before grabbing the phone from George and hitting the 'ignore' button. She handed the phone back to him and turned back to her scrambled eggs.

"Should we tell her?" George asked again.

Izzie looked at him, eyes wide, feigning ignorance, "Tell her what?"

"That Dr. Shep— Oh! Never mind," he said, realization dawning. Deleting the call from the phone records, George set it back on the table right before Meredith came rushing into the kitchen.

"Oh, here it is." she said breathlessly, pulling the shirt over her head.

-o-

**Derek**:

-o-

Derek frowned, ending the call after hearing her voicemail pick up. This wasn't something to leave in a message. Turning off the phone, he sighed and picked up his bag. He felt nervous, but excited as he made his way to the boarding gate.

-o-

**Meredith**:

-o-

"Seriously?" Christina stared at Izzie and George, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Yes!" Izzie exclaimed.

"Keep your voice down," George reminded her. They all looked down over the railing where Meredith was filling out post-op notes at the nurse's station, unaware of the conversation her friends were having about her.

"Why on earth would he be calling her now?" Christina scoffed, "Bastard."

"Who are we talking about?" they all turned to see Meredith walking up the stairs towards them, files in tow.

"Nothing!"  
"No one." Christina and Izzie replied simultaneously.

Meredith studied the two of them, looking skeptical. "Well whatever it is, you know that I'm going to find out eventually," she informed them.

"What are you doing? This is not tea time at the social club!" Bailey barked at her interns, interrupting their gossip session. "Yang, get Mr. Wallford down for his CT. Stevens, go scrub in with Burke in OR2. O'Malley, finish the post-ops for 2313 and 2321. And Grey, don't you have labs to check on?" She passed out her orders effortlessly, not even slowing her pace as she rushed past them. Turning around, she glared at them, silently pushing them into action.

Izzie and Christina knocked into each other in their haste, leaving George and Meredith.

Meredith's gaze swept over the lobby and she sighed, ready for another slow afternoon at Seattle Grace with no surgeries for her to look forward to. Her eyes stopped on a familiar dark head of hair, walking towards the pair of automatic doors from the elevators.

"George do you see…?" she trailed off.

"See what?" George looked over at her, unaware of what caught her attention.

Meredith fell silent, watching as the person exited the building. "Nothing," Meredith said, though her focus remained on the main entrance of the hospital lobby.

"You okay Mer?" George asked, concerned.

"Yeah," she responded. "Could you watch these for me? I need to check on something," she said, sliding the stack of files to George, and running down the stairs towards the parking lot before George could answer.


	4. Rust

A/N: And here we have the scene I've been waiting for: The Confrontation (part 1). You don't really think they're going to just get back together do you? As always, thanks for reading, and please review.

-o-

_Stranded_  
"_I can only take so much  
These tears are turning me to rust"  
-Plumb_

-o-

**Stranded**

-o-

**Derek**:

-o-

He turned once he heard footsteps rapidly pounding the concrete behind him. He would have known that rhythm of rubber hitting pavement anywhere, but still was unable to suppress his surprise when he turned around and saw her.

"Meredith!" It almost seemed as if time had frozen; and he allowed himself to pretend for just a moment that he had never left for New York and they were just a crazy couple again gearing up for an explosive fight over nothing that would end in a kiss, dinner, and sex.

Then reality crashed into him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she yelled, slowing a she caught up with him.

"Walking to my car," he answered smiling, baiting her. Seeing her furious was far preferable to not seeing her at all, and acting flippant helped him avoid giving the real answers.

"I meant here! What are you doing _here_?" she clarified, throwing up her hands in frustration.

"Right," he paused, wondering if he should just tell her everything, but deciding not yet. "I had a meeting with Richard."

"For what?" she asked, crossing her arms defensively as her eyebrows shot up.

"Meredith, can we not talk about this now?" he sighed, frustrated from her demeanor and exhausted from his flight. Reaching out, he lightly touched her elbow, feeling her stiffen at the contact. "It's good to see you."

Her eyes narrowed to slits as she glared at him, arms still wrapped around her. He let his arm fall to his side, realizing that in his absence despair had turned to rage. "Well, I-" he began awkwardly, stopping mid-sentence as her eyes widened suddenly. He knew she had noticed his left hand and the piece of gold that was curiously absent.

"You're...?" she asked, not finishing the question that was obvious enough.

"Yeah," he answered.

"So that's why you're back? So I can help you pick up the pieces of your failed marriage again?" she fumed, turning on her heel and rushing back into the safety of the hospital.

"No, Meredith, that's not it at all," Derek tried to explain, rushing after her.

He reached for her arm to turn her around. When he caught her she spun around fast. Strands of hair fell from her pony tail and her face flushed an angry red, causing her to look wild and angry. Derek fought the urge to kiss her right there.

"Don't touch me," she whispered venomously.

He released her arm and watched as she fled back into the hospital.

-o-

**Meredith**:

-o-

Meredith threw her head back hard, feeling the sting of tears as the shot burnt its way down. As the liquid trickled down her throat, she sucked in a deep breath of stale alcohol and smoke. Pounding the glass on the counter near the seven others, she wiped her eyes on her sleeve, demanding another:

"One more, Joe."

Joe glanced nervously at blonde as he idly cleaned a glass. When she received no response, and no additional shot, she tried to slam the shot glass against the bar again, but only succeeded in knocking it over.

"Uh, Meredith, I think you've had enough for tonight," Joe replied as he caught the spinning shot glass.

"It's never enough," Meredith mumbled, twisting a paper napkin around her finger.

"So, where are your friends?" Joe asked, spying Meredith's keychain lying on the bar. He passed her a shot, edging the keys closer to the edge while she focused her attention on the shot.

"I don't have anyone," she responded, wrapping her fingers around the shot glass.

"But what about…?" Joe tipped his head over towards the corner tables. Hunched over, Derek sat with a single drink. His eyes were trained on Meredith, but he gave no indication he would move to the bar, undoubtedly trying to avoid a repeat of the afternoon.

Meredith rolled her eyes at Joe, refusing to encourage him by rewarding Derek with a look. She flicked her finger at the empty glasses on the table.

"So he's really back?" Joe pried, intrigued.

"I don't know," Meredith moaned, setting her elbows on the table and propping up her head on a fist. "But he's following me. And he knew I'd be here after a bad day. Because seeing him definitely constitutes as a 'bad day.'" She brought the tequila to her lips. "Maybe enough of these will stop the pain," she mused aloud.

Her voice was so empty the bartender thought he might cry. Meredith tipped the shot as he dropped the keys into his pocket. Joe looked nervously at Meredith, fearing she may have heard the 'clink' of the metal as it landed, but she stared at the now empty shot glass. "One more, Joe," she repeated, eyes low and dark.

Reaching for a clean glass, he looked over at the door, hoping one of her friends to miraculously come and save their friend from herself. Meredith began to trace a deep groove in the wooden bar surface with her fingernail, only stopping once another shot of tequila was slowly passed to her.

"Thanks," she said, fumbling for the glass, her movements slow and heavy. Halfway to her lips, another set of hands reached for her poison, slowly retrieving it and setting it back on the bar.

"Hey!" she protested. She struggled against the hands until they pinned her wrists against counter. She felt the sticky residue cling to her skin as she fought for control, frantically turning to see who she was fending off, until she realized who she was fighting against—

"What the hell are you doing here?" she slurred.

"Izzie sent me to check on you," Alex replied as he slid onto the nearest stool. "She said you'd had a bad day."

"Seriously?" Meredith snorted. "You think?" she glared at him as she reached for her tequila.

"Meredith, alcoholism really isn't your thing," Alex reasoned. "And yeah, Izzie wants me to make sure you don't go off and sleep with some psycho."

She heard Joe laugh, but when she turned to shoot daggers his way, he had already turned his back to them. "So she sent me you? How sweet. Now leave me the hell alone," she grumbled, turning her back to him. "I'm fine!" she emphasized when he refused to leave.

"Jesus, Mer. You haven't been this bad since—" he trailed off.

"Since when?" She interrupted.

"Umm," Alex stuttered, suddenly awkward and worried how to broach the issue, abandoned by his usual arrogance. "Well, you know, since McDreamy and McSatan went back to New York." He watched her, while she tried to keep her face blank. Alcohol was supposed to take away the pain.

But then Meredith smirked at him through the cloudy haze of alcohol, "Well I guess Izzie doesn't tell you everything, then."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

Meredith lowered her head close to the bar, motioning for Alex to do the same. "Look over in the corner," she whispered conspiratorially. "But don't make it look like you're looking."

Alex slowing raised his head, and shifted his eyes over to the tables in the corner. Meredith heard him suck in a surprised breath as his eyes met Derek's. "She failed to mention that," he acknowledged. "Do you uh, want to talk about it?" he asked hesitantly.

"I thought you didn't do that sort of thing," she laughed pathetically.

"Yeah, well, you can't tell anyone," he grinned. "So what's Shepherd doing back here? Do you want me to hurt him?" he offered.

"Not yet."

An uncomfortable silence fell over them. Seconds crawled by before Alex tried to coax her back out of her shell. While Alex continued to crack sarcastic jokes, she subtly caught Joe's eye, glancing down at the bar. His eyes followed hers, to where her finger insistently tapped the surface in front of her, silently demanding another shot, hoping Alex wouldn't see.

Unfortunately, Evil Spawns possess remarkable visions. "How many has she had Joe?" he nonchalantly asked, but lets out a curse when Joe ticks off the number of shots on his fingers. She heard him say nine, but the more the thought about it, the less she could remember each shot.

Joe reached in his pocket, and held out her key ring for Alex.

"Common Mer. Izzie'll kill me if I don't get you home," Alex insisted, taking her keys from Joe, sliding his arm around her waist to pry her from her stool. He slowly lead her out of the bar, pausing as she slumped against him. "You're going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning," he noted, watching out of the corner of his eye as Derek rose from his chair and walked to the bar, his wallet in his hands.

"Oh shut up," she slurred, feeling his arm tighten around, steadying her as she stumbled to the car.

"Yeah, whatever," Alex answered nonchalantly, as he leaded her against her car and opened the car door. She felt him maneuver her into the seat, buckling her in as if she were a child. Leaning her head against the window, she heard him turn the key and the engine spring to life before she let her head fall back on the seat, and the world faded to black…

-o-

**Derek**:

-o-

"You've got a lot of nerve coming here," Izzie said, staring defiantly at him through the glass screen. Alex and George stood behind her, glaring at him through narrowed eyes while Izzie railed against him.

"Dr. Stevens—Izzie, please," Derek began.

"Do you know how many nights one of us had to go to Joe's just to make sure she got home? How many times she wound up there drunk about to make some stupid drunken decision after you just packed up and left? Do you know what she's been through? And now you just think you can show up, and it's all okay?" she berated him, growing more angry with each word.

"If I could just talk to her and explain," Derek raked his fingers through his hair, looking away from them in frustration.

"Dude, you've done enough," Alex shook his head at Derek, his words seething with condescension. "Don't make it worse."

Derek stared at the three of them, slack-jawed, and locked in a silent battle.

"George?" he asked the one person who had remained silent.

George shrugged, "Dr. Shepherd, we're Meredith's family; and we helped her pick up the pieces every time you broke her. When you went back to New York—"

"You should've never come back," Izzie seethed, cutting him off.

"Is that why you called?" George asked him.

Derek's attention snapped over to him, realization dawning, "She didn't see I had called, did she?"

George shifted uncomfortably on his feet, looking to Izzie for guidance. "We didn't think she should," Izzie told him.

Looking again at the three of them, Derek's frustration grew. He rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Alright then. Dr. Karev, Dr. O'Malley, Dr. Stevens," he addressed them with barely concealed resentment, before turning and stomping down the porch steps. The heavy wooden door slammed in his wake and the glass screen door rattled in response.

Opening the door of his rental car, he glanced up at Meredith's darkened bedroom window, before sliding into the driver's seat and pulling the door shut.

-o-

**Meredith**:

-o-

Meredith clutched the pillow to her chest as she heard the thunder of the door closing, causing her head to ache. Turning in the bed, she flopped onto her side, keeping her back to her door. Tears rolled down her face as she heard the sound of a car engine.

A beam of light flooded her room and she could see the three shadows cast on the wall..

"Hey," she heard Izzie say, but she remained silent.

"You okay, Mer?" George asked.

"Yeah," she croaked out, tears streaming down her cheeks, and her back facing them. "I'm fine."

-o-


	5. Miss, Need, Love

A/N: Yeah, the lyric fragment this time isn't so great, but that's because they're only one chapter left and I'm trying not to repeat the lyrics for each chapter. And that's right, only one chapter left—get excited!

For this chapter: oh dear Lord, there's a ton of dialogue! Probably the most I've ever written for a single chapter!

On a side note, back in the day I used to make graphics and have fun with that, but they take way more time than writing, and are typically less rewarding and not often for fandoms as much as for life in general. However, I've been playing around with making miniature "story covers" for the most recent things I've written. So if you're at all curious, check my LJ account (my homepage on my profile) and I have them posted there.

Leave me some love: please read and review!

-o-

_Stranded_  
"_Oh baby I miss you  
Oh baby I need you  
Oh baby I love you"  
-Plumb_

-o-

**Stranded**

-o-

**Derek**:

-o-

Derek glanced at his watch again, gnashing his teeth in frustration.

Two minutes to nine.

And once more, his eyes swept across the small conference room where the group of doctors sat around the conference table. Near the window a doctor from Mercy West scribbled furiously in her notepad. On Derek's left, an intern from Sacred Heart jabbed at his Palm Pilot with a stylus. To his right, two empty chairs remained.

Suppressing a sigh, Derek checked his watch again.

One minute to nine.

Trying to remain calm, Derek flipped through his lecture notes, trying to press out the doubt. Would she really not show, or worse, deliberately avoid him every time he set foot into the hospital? Would she really risk that much trouble just to save herself from being stuck in the same room?

Aware of the time, Derek adjusted the small table podium, and looked up at the group of doctors.

"Good morning everyone," he greeted.

Amidst the rumble of returned greetings, the door opened and two flustered interns entered.

"Nice of you to join us, Dr. Grey, Dr. Yang," he smirked, concealing relief with sarcasm.

Derek kept his eyes trained on Meredith as she took the one remaining seat farthest from him, keeping her eyes on the floor. Christina sat in the chair immediately next to him, watching him through narrowed eyes.

Finally looking up, Meredith's eyes met Derek's. She looked as though a train had slammed into her; and Derek remembered just how drunk she was the previous night.

Because of him.

Looking around the room, he continued introducing the talking points of the seminar, noticing Christina still staring at, her eyes full of contempt. She shook her head at him slightly as she took down notes, silently reminding him that it was _his_ fault her friend was such a mess.

Five minutes after nine, Meredith rolled her chair back, hiding behind Christina for the remainder of the morning.

-o-

**Meredith**:

-o-

"Hey George," Meredith smiled as she slid into the chair next to him, Christina following behind.

He stuffed the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth, flipping shut the files he had been reviewing. "Hey guys. How was the seminar?"

"Hell," Meredith answered, popping the lid off of her salad, and grabbing for her fork.

"He may be an ass, but at least his lecture's good," Christina replied.

Meredith's jaw dropped. "You're not helping," she told her.

George looked at Meredith and, like Derek before, observed how tired she looked—how tired she had looked since she heard the Shepherds were going back to New York. "Is it really that bad?" he asked.

Meredith shrugged, nonchalantly, "He won't stop looking at me."

"Well don't look now," Christina warned, looking past Meredith, "because he's looking at you again."

George and Meredith turned towards the doorway, seeing Derek standing, watching them, tray in hand. Taking a breath, he began walking towards the table.

Meredith whirled around, eyes wide with horror, "He's not doing what I think he's doing, is he?"

"I think he is," George said.

Christina began packing her lunch back onto her tray, "Screw this, I'm out of here."

"Christina!" Meredith hissed.

"I'm not sticking around for today's episode of _General Hospital_. I'm going to go find myself a surgery, or… something not here," she explained, pushing her chair back to stand.

"Where is Izzie?" Meredith moaned.

"Yeah, sorry, but I don't want to beat Shepherd away with a stick for you. But I do want details later," she added.

"I hate you," Meredith muttered.

"Ah, Dr. Shepherd. Good seminar this morning," Christina said as Derek reached the table, hurrying away before he could respond

Meredith looked at George with pleading eyes, begging him not to leave; but George squirmed uncomfortably in his seat and searched for some way to escape the awkward situation.

"Dr. O'Malley, it's good to see you again," Derek said, maintaining his focus on Meredith while she tried to avoid his gaze.

"Uh… yeah, you too, Dr. Shepherd," George stammered.

"Would you mind if I had a word with Dr. Grey?"

"I, um… well…" he stammered. "Okay," George surrendered; Meredith's head snapped to look at him:

"George!" she protested with a strained voice.

But George rose and scurried off with his files and empty lunch tray, mumbling something that sounded like an apology.

Meredith released a ragged breath, picking up her fork and spearing her salad, envisioning the tomato as Derek Shepherd's skull.

Derek sat across from her, studying her face. She was furious, that was apparent. But she was also terrified. But so was he, and the tense silence fell on them, stretching on as the minutes crawled by.

-o-

**Derek**:

-o-

"Is it really that terrible to be around me, Meredith?" he finally asked after several minutes, and she refused to meet his eyes.

She shrugged, continuing to poke at her lunch.

The longer she ignored him, the more frustrated Derek grew. Her avoiding him, though it stemmed from anger and fear, and was far better than indifference, had begun to irritate him, and he struggled to remain calm.

"Meredith?" he asked again, resting his hand atop hers, stilling her frantic jabbing motions.

She sucked in sharp stream of air, and finally looked at him. Her eyes were still bloodshot, and a layer of tears pooled in her eyes, threatening to fall. "Why are you here, Derek?" she whispered.

But he had no answer, and no idea where to begin to explain everything that had happened.

After suffering in silence, she stood and gathered together the remains of her lunch. "I'll see you, Derek."

"Wait, Meredith," he turned to stop her, but she quickened her pace and hurried back into the hospital.

He collapsed down into the chair, setting his head into his hands, struggling to find a way to reach her.

-o-

**Meredith**:

-o-

Meredith leaned back against the railing, watching the sun dip below the line of buildings and trees on the horizon. Below, the comforting sound of the flurry of hospital activity filtered up to her ears. She shut her eyes, concentrating on the humming noise and the afternoon sun warming her face, trying to focus on anything but the crushing weight in her stomach. She would not let this affect her… not now… not after she had come this far.

But still…

She still loved him as much as she ever had.

And that freaking sucked.

Eyes still closed, she heard a pair of feet slowly walking towards her. She didn't need to open her eyes to know who it was.

"I didn't come back here because my marriage failed," he began, leaning on the railing so near she could almost feel him. She felt his gaze on hers, but remained eyes closed, facing the sun. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying.

"I left because I felt I had to," he continued, "I thought I owed it to my marriage to try and fix it, because… even if I had stopped loving her, I had promised until death do us part. And I didn't want to go on in life knowing that I was the reason my marriage failed."

Derek turned his face towards the skyline, continuing to watch her out of the corner of his eye, searching desperately for some sign, some trigger of emotion from her. Recklessly, he charged on, tripping over words as they tumbled from his lips, trying to make her understand, praying she would:

"And we both knew I couldn't do it—I couldn't work on it here when I saw you every day. I thought if I left I would stop loving you and I would be able to work on my marriage, and…"

Derek stopped, taking a breath to slow his pounding chest, "But the truth is, we weren't even the same people we were before. And we both knew it, it's just—it was hard to face, and we didn't want to for a long time," he explained. "It was easier to focus on… other problems. But the longer I was in New York, the more miserable I was, and the more I resented her for me picking up again and moving. I resented her, and myself because..." again, the words trailed off, not sure how to explain.

Meredith slowly opened her eyes, tilting her head to study him. "You're not the reason I left New York. But you are the reason I came back to Seattle," he promised, facing her, trying to read how she felt.

"I packed up what I had and moved across the country to a place where I have no home, no family, and no job. And there are plenty of places to fish on the East Coast," Derek laughed, silently pleading with whoever would listen that she would understand, that she would realize what he was saying…

She said nothing, but she remained there, leaning on the railing, head turned, her eyes fixed on his. And it was all the invitation Derek needed to throw himself out there:

"So the way I see it: you have two choices. And your choice, it's simple," he leaned into her, watching the corners of her mouth twitch upwards, casting her eyes down. Derek couldn't decide if it was a hint of a smile or a grimace, but it was something. It wasn't much, but it was progress.

"You can take a risk and be happy with me, or you can stay angry at me and be miserable by yourself," he told her. "But I love you, and that's not going to change. So if you do decide you want to forgive me, you should let me know."

Meredith turned to him, not sure what she would say, but his back was to her, and he was already walking away…


	6. Not Afraid

A/N: It's been quite a ride writing this, but we've finally reached the end-for this one at least. It's short. It's sweet. It's not completely resolved, because life's about the journey, and nothing is ever completely resolved and loose ends don't always get tied up neatly. They've got issues, and this wasn't about dealing with those, it was about finding each other again. That's been met, and so now, it's the end of this story. But I didn't want this to seem like the end, because, in one sense, it's a beginning.

Thank you so much for reading and for your reviews—they've meant the world to me.

_Stranded_  
"_I'm not afraid to show--  
It's coming over you  
Like it's coming over me  
Crashing like a tidal wave  
That drags me out to sea  
I want to be with you  
You want to be with me  
Crashing like a tidal wave  
I don't want to be  
Stranded"  
-Plumb_

-o-

**Stranded**

-o-

The rental car pulled up behind the blue Jeep. Derek shut off the engine and rested his arms against the wheel, raking a shaking hand through his hair as he stared at the car, wondering just what to do.

Flipping open his phone, he scrolled down to re-read a message, reminding him why he was there:

"_I'm off at 8. Meet me at the trailer"_

Derek glanced over to _'the trailer.'_ Even in the faint moonlight, he could see the brown patch of land had begun to show a faint covering of grass. He tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and unbuckled the latch, slowly inching into action. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door, climbing out of the car. Cautiously, he walked to the car, finding Meredith sitting on the hood of her car.

He stood by the hood watching her, though she gave him no acknowledgement. She continued to stare up at the stars, resting her back against the windshield.

Derek waited until she spoke.

"I came out here a lot after you left," she admitted, pulling her thin jacket around her. "Sometimes I'd sit out here just waiting for the sun to come up. Then when my mother… I started coming back. It's the only place I can see the stars," she shrugged.

Derek nodded as she spoke, and then she looked at him, and for the first time since he'd returned to Seattle, her eyes held neither anger nor fear.

"Yeah," he breathed, his eyes fixed on her.

"I mean," she continued, "no matter how alone I am, there's all this—" she swept her arm across the sky. "It's impossible to be completely alone when there's this."

Derek took a step towards her, "You're not alone, Mer."

A small smile looked back at him. But it was broken and he knew she didn't believe him, but was grateful he continued to try. Derek thought he heard her whisper "thanks," but couldn't be certain.

Meredith slowly inched from the center to one side of car hood, lightly thumping the metal beside her with her palm. He smiled, stepping onto the bumper to climb up next to her. The sound of metals creaking under his weight sliced through the constant chirping of crickets. He scooted as close to her as he dared, his shoulder brushed against hers.

"I'm glad you didn't sell this," she confessed. "It was nice to have some place to get away, a place of my own that reminded me of…"

"Of?" he prompted, watching her nervously and hopeful.

"Nothing," she shook her head, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. "I'm glad you didn't sell it," she repeated.

"I priced it too high for anyone to want," he grinned. "I didn't want to sell it" he told her, suddenly serious.

She rolled onto her side, facing him, watching him expectantly. A slight smile tugged at the corner of her mouth and one eyebrow raised, amused, asking…

"I couldn't let go," he confessed.

"You tried," she bitterly reminded him, her smile disappearing.

Derek leaned his head against the windshield, watching her eyes cloud with hurt and pain, mirroring his own. "I had to," he said simply. "It wouldn't have been fair to her—or you," he amended, "to just walk away from a promise.

"You wouldn't be you," she begrudgingly agreed, trying to understand, trying to accept it. They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence before Meredith spoke again:

"I'm not going to just forgive you for breaking my heart," she looked him squarely in the eye. "Just because you came back doesn't mean I'm going to forget the rest of it."

"You wouldn't be you if you did," he smiled. "I know," he answered, feeling a growing wave of relief. It was a start. It was somewhere.

She reached up, lightly touching his face, searching his eyes. Whatever she was searching for, she must have found it: "I'll forgive you eventually," she promised.

Smiling, he slid closer, bringing his arm around her as she rested her head against his shoulder. They both stared up at the stars surrounded by the singing of crickets.

"I'll work on eventually getting here quickly," he whispered into her ear, feeling her shiver against him in response.

"It's the first time I've been here in forever when I haven't been completely alone," she said, blinking back tears.

Derek threaded his hand through her hair. "You're not alone Mer," he repeated. "We're not anymore."

"I missed you," Meredith whispered.

Derek pulled her closer, pressing a kiss against her head, "I missed you too."

-o-

_fin_

-o-


End file.
